


WHUMPTOBER 2019

by DobTheHalfOrcBard



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-12-09 00:03:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DobTheHalfOrcBard/pseuds/DobTheHalfOrcBard
Summary: We all know what this is.





	WHUMPTOBER 2019

Alexander Hamilton, the soldier, former Treasury Secretary, father, friend, and enemy was scared.

Across the field stood Burr (_why did it have to be him?_), gun at his side.

_God, I hope he can't see my hands._

Because despite all of the war and loss he experienced, Alexander Hamilton could not remember a time when his hands were shaking. Burr wouldn't, either.

It was a sign of weakness, that you were scared and unprepared, something he most definitely was not. 

As his eyes settled on the quivering gun in his grip, Alexander nearly let out a sob as he retraced his son's steps, Pendleton off to one side watching him with weary eyes.

He knew him well enough that he hated pity. 

The internal countdown was rushing towards zero as he turned, eyes focused squarely at his <strike>friend</strike> enemy, his anxiety peaked.

What if he didn't do enough? _What more could he have done?_

What did he regret? _Everything._

Would anybody remember him? _NO!_

Maybe that's why his hands were shaking. If history truly had its eyes on him, it would remember him as the asshole who taxed the alcohol, the madman who traded away the capital, and the man who traded away his marriage for protecting a legacy never truly worth it.

Maye Eliza would, but she would move on, find a new husband, raise their children far from their father's image. 

And he'd be fine with that. She deserved happiness, something he could not give her anymore. 

The world is seemingly frozen to him as he watches the flash of the muzzle of Burr's gun in slow motion.

He knows it's the end, but how could he face Death?

Face Laurens when he threw his life away?

Face Philip when he failed him so horribly?

Face his mother when he was not the little boy she used to be so proud of?

Face Washington, his commander, no, _father_, after leaving their country to fall apart?

He never did teach Alexander how to say goodbye. 

As the bullet grows ever closer, Alexander takes one last look over the nearly-empty field, to Pendleton, to the doctor's turned back, and back to Burr.

All he can hope is Eliza's happiness as he feels the gun touch the sky, and his finger pull the trigger.

"WAIT-"


End file.
